


happiness, it don't come easy

by icklemyer



Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: (nothing explicit though), Angst, Drabble, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Language, Murder, Religion, Spoilers, Suicide, Violence, based on the movie so some things may not be canon-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icklemyer/pseuds/icklemyer
Summary: The boys at school would sneer at him when they passed him in the halls, spit "sister fucker" as they shoved him into the rows of lockers, but Arvin never felt that way about Lenora. There was never any romantic attraction there, any lust or pining. She was just his sister, and his best friend, and he wanted to protect her. That's all there was to it.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	happiness, it don't come easy

The boys at school would sneer at him when they passed him in the halls, spit "sister fucker" as they shoved him into the rows of lockers, but Arvin never felt that way about Lenora. There was never any romantic attraction there, any lust or pining. She was just his sister, and his best friend, and he wanted to protect her. That's all there was to it.

They fought, as siblings do. Arvin used to pull on her braids until she cried and ran to their grandmother, and she laughed at him when he smashed that bee's nest in the backyard that one time and ended up getting stung. They hurled insults at each other and once got into a wrestling match over whose turn it was to wash the dishes (a fight that, embarrassingly enough, Lenora won. Arvin would hear about it for the next three years).

But sometimes Arvin would hear her crying into her pillow in the middle of the night, or Lenora would wake up to the sound of his screams. They would reach a hand across the space between their beds to the other and just hold them there, a small comfort in the world of violence and death they both grew up in.

What Arvin liked the most about Lenora though, other than her unwavering kindness and her faith, was her joy for the little things, the way she found happiness in anything if she looked hard enough. That was a skill that Arvin was never particularly good at.

In the late summer, when the weather got hot and humid and Arvin's birthday had come and gone, he and Lenora would spend their nights chasing lightning bugs. Arvin was never one for playing outside, would much rather sit in his room reading comics and thinking of Jack. But it made Lenora smile in a way that was rare, and he would watch as she trampled through the grass without any shoes, her fingertips brushing against the little lights in the dark blue of dusk.

It was the only time in his life that Arvin felt they were going to be okay.

See, the boys picked on Lenora because she didn't look or act like the other girls, and they picked on Arvin because he was her brother. She would spend her time praying instead of fooling around on school grounds during lunch period. Arvin never paid attention to those things, anyway. He wasn't interested in girls.

So when fuckin' Gene Dinwoodie and his buddies push her onto the ground and put a dirty paper bag over her head, he knows what he has to do.

He thinks, as he presses a rag onto his stinging knuckles, that Lenora might be upset with him. She doesn't condone violence, especially after she learned what her daddy did. But those boys won't go near her again, Arvin made sure of that, and he considers it a win.

Reverend Preston Teagardin, on the other hand, may as well be the Lord himself the way Lenora keeps looking at him. She spends her afternoons talking to him on the steps of the church. He gives Arvin the creeps.

"I can come on my own from now on," Lenora says to Arvin one evening with a funny look on her face. Arvin has a thought in the back of his mind that the preacher may have something to do with it, but he doesn't question her. Cliff Baker ended up getting him that job, anyway, so it's not like he has a ton of free time anymore.

When he starts his morning holding back Lenora's hair as she pukes into a rusty metal bin three months later, though, he gets that nagging feeling in his brain again. He's not an idiot, and he knows that Teagardin's responsible. He just doesn't know how.

"I'm so ashamed," she whispers into her hands. He tucks her hair behind her ear.

"You ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of," he says. "I'm sure the Lord will forgive you for missing one Sunday. Ol' Jesus probably had his fair share of bad mornings."

She gives him a watery smile and grabs his hand.

"I love you, Arvin."

No, there was never anything romantic between them, never at all, but Arvin's heart is so full of love for this girl. He's sure, without a doubt, that he would do anything for her.

It isn't until he gets back from church that afternoon that the feeling hits. The feeling of _wrong_ that leads him to the work shed.

They bury Lenora two days later.

The guys at work give him looks as they ride back into town, looks of pity that they don't think he can see. Even Gene Dinwoodie won't make eye contact with him anymore. Maybe it’s because Arvin doesn't say much these days, but it's not like he was ever chatty before.

When a policeman shows up next to his car after work, the setting sun casting shadows on his face, and tells him that his sister was carrying a baby, the sting in his knuckles starts up again. He flexes his hand, digs his dirty fingernails into his palm, shakes his head.

"That's bullshit," he says, even though he knows. He fucking _knows_ that goddamn Reverend got to her, had his way with her and then threw her out like she was a plate of bad chicken livers. He knows he's gonna do the same thing to that red-headed girl who smiles at him on Sunday mornings.

And, most of all, Arvin knows what he has to do. He's sure, without a doubt.

He stares into the dead eyes of the preacher and thinks of lightning bugs on warm summer nights. How they'd made Lenora smile in a way that was rare.

He walks out of the church without another glance.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i haven't written in years so please be nice :)


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